The Inventory - Under New Management
by ClubsxDeuce
Summary: Following the passing of the Inventory's proprietor Winslow, the player is tasked with keeping the historic club alive. Running the club would be a challenge on it's own... but as the omni-dimensional accretion nexus grows more unstable, the flood of new customers may be more than he can handle… Crossovers across wide range of anime, games, books, movies, tv shows, and comics
1. Winslow's Will

_Hello there Player, it's been a while hasn't it? Or maybe not. Who knows if I'll see you again between my writing of this letter and you receiving it. As of this writing I know it's been at least two years since you sat down at our table, and while I'd love to catch up, I'm afraid that's not in the cards._

_I'll get right to the point. This letter and it's delivery are provisional to my will following my passing. If you are reading this, it means I've moved on. Do not grieve, for I have had a long and plentiful life, and carrying out the legacy in my family by operating the Inventory has been the joy of it. A joy I had one day hoped to pass on to an heir of my own... well... you never meet the right person and sometimes you just run out of time. I have no son or daughter to whom I may bequeath the club and carry on the legacy. But I know that the Inventory must stand, a fixed point in our changing world. Therefore... I've chosen to leave it in your capable hands. You are by far the most stable and reasonable of the regular patrons I've come to know over the years. You have a good head on your shoulders, I know you can handle it. I hope that keeping the spirit of the games alive gives you as much joy in life as it did in mine._

_The paperwork and deed are included. Moxxi quit a few months ago, so you'll need to find a new bartender, but GladOS is still operational and set up as dealer and to assist in day to day operations. Just... do be careful around her. The restraint programs have been improved significantly over the years, but she may very well still try to kill people if she can find a way around her own programming. You'll also find a notebook in my office with some contact information for people who can help if things so south._

_Good luck and farewell,_

_Winslow_

* * *

"Oh... it's you." A female voice spoke from the glowing red eye inlaid into the Inventory door. The player stood in front of it.

"Hello GladOS." The player replied. There was a moment of silence.

"So you CAN talk. I am conveying the emotion known as "shocked" at this revelation."

"Complete silence. The perfect pokerface." He replied.

"Ok, I'll give you credit, it certainly worked. You had an 83.56% higher win rate than any other patron in Inventory history." She spoke matter of factly. "And you are speaking to me now because?"

"Well how could I possibly hope to run this place without speaking? I'm done as a player, so I can drop the act." The player shrugged. The red light blinked and the golden cage of the elevator appeared from the ground around him as he felt himself begin to descend.

"Well, pleased as I am at your newfound verbosity, there is some business to take care of." Glados spoke as the elevator door opened. The player descended the steps onto the now dimly lit Inventory floor, which only faintly lit near the bar, with shadows being cast as Glados' frame bobbed about overhead.

"There's nobody here." The player observed.

"Obviously." Glados snarked as his statement of the obvious. "The Inventory has actually been losing money for some months now. Winslow was in a fair amount of debt. Along with the business, you've inherited those as well.

"Whoa." The player was taken aback. "The letter didn't say anything about..."

"These debts were accumulated after the letter was written but before his death." The white, singled eyed "face" ducked down right into the player's. "Blame him for lack of foresight."

"How much debt?"

"$12,345,678 US dollars plus annually accruing interest at a rate of 7.8%."

"Wait... twelve... three for five... that's seriously the amount? A string of exactly incrementing digits?"

"Yes it seemed improbable to me as well. I checked the math."

"Damn."

"If you want to get out from under this debt before you yourself expire and pass it to another unwitting victim, I suggest you work to re-open the Inventory as quickly as possible." She reminded the player.

"Right... ok so bare minimum we need a bartender and a host..." The player considered.

"Might I make a recommendation?" Glados interrupted.

"Yes?"

"Though the Inventory has long been a secretive, private club since its days as a speakeasy, a greater volume of business is surely the quickest way to reduce the debt."

"So... open the club to the public?"

"Yes. We'll take in regular traffic along with our usual high-roller guests." The player hesitated for a moment.

"We can try it. Let's limit the tournament to the invited guests for the moment, but we can certainly open this place up to some drinks."

"I'll start screening applicants for our staff. In the meantime, I've printed out a list of qualified quests." A printer underneath the bar revved to life. "Please select the roster for the opening night tournament."


	2. Opening Night

**AN: Characters and elements from the following will appear henceforth:**

**_Homestuck, Torchwood, Adventure Time, Toonami_**

**Thank You.**

The player was still unclear how precisely the Inventory worked. Over the years he'd heard different explanations: a space between spaces, beyond the fourth wall, or as Sam has always called it "The Omnidimensional Accretion Nexus". What he did understand was that the guests who gathered inside came and went to all sorts of places. Different worlds with different rules. He'd been startled upon his first visit to encounter a talking rabbit and cartoonish luchadore with boxing gloves. Enough so that he didn't question the rabbit's "freelance police" partner, a talking dog in a suit and fedora. Or the robot claiming to come from a future, distant world, along with Glados herself, an AI wired into the building with dubious accounts of how precisely she'd gotten here. He hadn't dug much into it. The place itself seemed to contain its own inherent weirdness filter. You just sort of shrugged your shoulders and went with it.

And that is precisely what he did when Glados introduced her recommendations for staff.

Two of them were obviously human. Two young blondes, who most definitely were not 21 yet, had been hired as bartenders. Glados assured him that drinking age laws were irrelevant in pocket dimensions when he'd raised an eyebrow to this. Furthermore... despite appearing to be precisely the same age and resembling sisters, the two claimed to be mother and daughter. When he'd asked the "mother" named Roxy for clarification, she simply told him it was complicated. Regardless, the two knew their beverages, and he decided she and Rose would be fine tending the bar.

The other two new hires were... not human. And certainly not anthropomorphized animals like he'd encountered before.

"So um... you're aliens?"

":33 Puursicely!" Responded the smaller of the two. She was a grey-skinned girl, wearing a black outfit with a dark green coat, as well as a blue hat with the face of a cat covering short and messy black hair. It had holes where the ears of the cat would be, which exposed yellow and orange horns that certainly resembled cat ears. Definitely alien, but the horns and grey skin were the only characteristics greatly differing from humans. The other of the two was of the same alien race, but was quite large. He had seen such muscles only twice before. Tall and muscular, also wearing a black outfit but with a sleeveless shirt and long straight black hair. His horns were of a different shape and the yellow eyes color he presumable shared with the smaller one were covered by black sunglasses that were cracked and falling apart. ":33 Is that a purroblem?" She queried.

"Well, uh... no." The player glanced up at Glados, who offered no response.

"- We are already compatriots to the Rose and Roxy humans whom you have hired and they will surely vouch for our qualifications." The large one spoke. "- I am Equius Zahakk and this is Nepeta Leijion. She shall play a host and I shall server as this establishments security officer and..." He searched for a word, as if it was one foreign to him he'd only just learned.

"He's the bouncer." Glados interrupted. "We're going public, but not to just anyone."

Weirdness filter. You shrug. You move on." His four new employees chatted animately with each other while sitting at the bar, while he sat at the poker table going over his guest list.

Sam and/or Max - Unreachable. Perhaps they were off time traveling again like the stories they'd told at the table.

Brock Samson - undercover or dead. The guy who answered the phone changed his story multiple times.

Ash Williams - Said he was busy picketing the production of an Army of Darkness remake that had turned him down for the part. Whatever that meant.

Claptrap - Borderlands 3. That's all he said before hanging up.

Strong Bad - Well, the player just didn't care much for Strong Bad.

Tycho - A vague reply of "busy" that night.

Thus far his only RSVP had been from Mr. Heavy Weapons. That was everyone he knew personally. Mail invitations had gone out to others on the list according to Glados, but given the nature of this place he wasn't sure of the efficacy of mail. He quickly visualized the awkwardness of him sitting at the table alone with the Russian, without enough players to run the tournament. Glados ducked down next to him.

"Don't worry. Where there's a will, there's a way." She told him. "And when there isn't a way, there is always suicide." The player shot her an annoyed look. "I'll shut up now." She ascended back towards the ceiling.

* * *

Opening day began with little fanfare. There was about as much business as any new bar would experience upon opening, with traffic quickly picking up Saturday afternoon turned to evening. The tournament was set to start at eight and thus far no one had shown up looking for it. Around seven, Equius came over the walkie talkie.

"- Um... there is a... very handsome human man headed downstairs." He stuttered slightly as if ashamed to admit it. "- He is here for the tournament." The player looked up at the descending elevator. Inside stood a tall man, who looked to be of European or American descent. He had short brown hair, handsome features, and was wearing a dark blue military coat, though it was hung open and bore no adornments.

"Captain Jack Harkness." Glados read off the file to the player. "The man who can't stay dead. Leader of British para-intelligence organization codename Torchwood. Averted both the 456 Catastrophe and the Miracle Day phenomena." The player had never heard of those before.

"What were those?"

"My historical records for his world are incomplete." The cage opened and Harkness walked slowly into the Inventory, looking up among the rafters and observing people in the room.

"What do you mean he can't stay dead?"

"Accounts vary but claim he is approximately 2000 years old and had been killed no less than 13,000 times, but suffers from spontaneous immortality that returns him to life minutes after each death." He crossed the room, nodding at Nepeta before bee-lining towards their table.

"Ya know, I dated a robot once. The sex was great, but the cuddling left something to be desired." He opened, looking at Glados.

"The captain also has a reputation for attracting and being attracted to almost everything." Glados said matter of factly, before rising up to the ceiling and away from the conversation, leaving the Player and Jack alone.

"You clearly know who and what I am, now who are you and what am I doing here?" Jack said, taking up a more serious tone. The player shrugged.

"Poker Night. I assume you got the invitation?" Jack pulled an envelope out of his coat pocket.

"And how did you find me via mail when I've been in hiding for years?"

"Glados did it. I'm not sure how." He glanced at a device on his wrist.

"This area is full of rift energy, but nothing is detected from outside. You've got an alien bouncer working out there in broad daylight, and a robot in your ceiling. What's your game?"

"Robot is such a simple term." Glados dropped in behind him. "I prefer to be called an AI. Or if you insist, Genetic Lifeform and Disc Operating System." Jack turned to face her. "Put simply Captain, the Inventory is a pocket dimension. A gathering place for exceptional individuals such as yourself for safety and leisure."

"What do you mean exceptional individuals?"

"Y'know, like heroes and stuff!" Interrupted a new voice, young and enthusiastic, who had just entered the conversation. The newcomer was short and young, probably around fifteen years old. He work a blue shirt and shorts, a green backpack over one shoulder, and a white hat/hood that made his head resemble that of a cartoon bear. His face was painted with unbridled enthusiasm. "Hi, I'm Finn!" He held out his hand to Jack. Jack reached out and shook it.

"Hey Finn!" Spoke another voice from behind him, this one belonging to a yellow dog walking on it's hind legs. He had droopy ears, large black eyes, and very thin limbs. "Ya notice something odd about this place?"

"Whatcha mean Jake?" Finn turned to face him. Jake stretched upwards so that he could look at Jack and the player from over Finn's shoulder, before whispering in his ear.

"There's a bunch of people like you here! Humans." Finn gave a stupefied look for a moment.

"Yeah, I guess they are. Neat."

"But I thought you were like… supposed to be the last human?"

"Well, I mean PB did say anything was possible here." He shrugged.

"What do you mean last human?" Jack questioned the dog. The player was impressed at his unflinching demeanor in the face of his first non-human anthromorph. Of course, Jack had seen thousands of anthromorphs before, although the player didn't know that.

"Uh… last human in the Land of Ooo." Finn turned back around to him. "But since this isn't Ooo, I guess it makes sense."

"Ooo… is that a planet?" Jack questioned.

"I… think so." Finn hesitated. "Yeah, we saw it from space once. Definitely a planet."

"So your an alien."

"No I'm a human."

"Gentleman." Glados descended between him. "Neither of you precisely qualify as "human". One is an alien altered by temporal science, one is a mutant, and the other is a dog." Jake banged on the side of Glados' body frame.

"Hey! Watch who your calling a mutant!" Jake protested. Glados turned and shot Jake a glare.

"If I didn't have an incoming trans-mat to process, I would punish you for that." The frame slid off to another part of the room.

"C'mon Jake, behave yourself, we're guests here." Finn nudged him.

"Yeah ok…" Jake sighed. "So what's this about a Poker game?"

A third participant arrive in a flash near the stage, entering via some form of teleportation. At a glance, the dark cobalt metal that made up the bulk of it's body gave the appearance of a spacesuit, but when it spoke it became abundantly clear the being was robotic.

"Evening Glados." The robot spoke.

"Tom, so glad you could make it. How is Sara?" Glados replied, as if they were already acquainted.

"Oh you know… keeping things ship shape. Been doing a lot of rebuilding and redesign work lately." Tom replied, gesturing with his hands to make up for lack of facial expressions. There was no mouth, and the vision center was behind a dark visor in a helmet.

"That's nice. I became rather worried when you two were… deactivated…" Glados hesitated.

"I'm not gonna let that happen again, trust me." Tom strolled into the center of the room towards the table with the others. "Alright, let's play some Poker."

"We're still waiting on one more…" The player told him. A few moments later, the player's phone rang. The heavy's drunk singing voice was the assigned ringtone, and he answered it before the end of the first line. "Hello?"

"PLAYER! MY FRIEND!" The heavy's voice came out of it. "YOU ARE SPEAKING NOW? WHAT IS THIS MADNESS?" The heavy was shouting, the sounds of explosions and gunfire in the background.

"Uh yeah… I was gonna explain when you got here. We still on for Poker tonight?"

"No." He heard a *nom sound through the phone and presumed he was in the middle of one of his beloved sandwiches. "There is emergency. Giant army of metal men. Fake heavies. Fake medics. Treacherous metal spying men. Team needs ME." There was a louder explosion, closer this time. "Perhaps next week, da? I must go now. Kiss nice computer lady for me." Another explosion. "MEDICCCCCC!" The call died.

"Who was that?" Jack questioned.

"Mr. Weapons send his love." The player told Glados. "But he had to cancel."

"Then we are short a player." Glados began to survey the room.

":33 AC couldn't help but overhear you need a sub player." The player glanced at the troll girl with the cat obsession.

"You play?"

":33 AC doesn't know anything about Poker." She smiled. ":33 But AC knows someone who loves to gamble!"

* * *

About 10 minutes later, Jack, Jake and Tom were all seated at the poker table. Finn had come along for reasons of "adventure", it was Jake who was going to be playing. The entrance elevator descended one more time, and another of the grey skinned aliens stepped out. She had long black hair and thin rimmed black glasses. Behind them, her first eye was the same yellow as the others, but the other had seven much smaller irises. She wore a light grey jacked over a black outfit like the other trolls; as for her horns, one resembled an open claw, the other a scorpion's stinger. She walked up to the table, her sharp teeth glinting behind her blue lipstick. As she walked she tossed a blue d8 up into the air before catching it again. She took the final seat at the table.

"Vriska Serket." She said as she dropped her ante onto the table, a bundle of a strange and colorful currency the others didn't recognize. "Alright chumps, let's make one thing clear. I have all the luck. All of it." The antes all vanished and were replaced by piles of chips.

"The name of the game is Texas Hold'Em..." Glados dealt the first hand.


	3. Tournament 1

Tournament #1

Vriska $24,500 - Jake $24,000 - Tom $25,000 - Jack $25,000

Blind $ 500 - Blind $1000

The first set of hole cards are dealt.

"You know..." Jack launched the first round of small talk. "When I woke up this morning, I did not expect to be playing poker with an alien, a dog and a robot. Was anyone expecting this?"

"I was." Tom replied.

"I was expecting Card Wars." Jake replied. "But then I learned this game instead. It's... Ok I guess. But not as fun." Tom glanced quickly at his card before setting them back down.

"I'll get in this hand." He threw a 1k chip into the pot. Jack wordlessly did the same.

"I wasn't expecting to do much of anything today. This is a nice surprise." Vriska leaned back in her chair. "I don't wanna end this too quickly. Check." There was a moment of silence at the table. "Well?" All eyes were on Jake for a second.50

"Huh?"

"Are you gonna pay to stay in the hand or not?" Vriska asked impatiently.

"Oh... uh yeah. Sorry, the blinds thing confused me." Jack scratched his head before dropping a 500 chip into the pool. With the end of the first round of betting, panels on the table opened up as Glados deployed the river cards. Ace of Clubs, Four of Diamonds, and Jack of Clubs.

"So uh... if no one minds me askin... what's everybody's story?" Jake asked before tapping the table, signifying a check.

"Well, I work up on a spaceship. Broadcast the sweet, sweet action out to the terrestrials." Tom threw a 1k chip into the pot. "And occasionally repel invaders."

"Well then we'll get along just fine." Jack smiled. "Except I do that full-time. Or I did."

"Did?" Jake asked.

"Well... things got kind of crazy. Lost most of my team. So I'm a solo operation now. Just drift around and help where I can. Call." He matched Tom's raise.

"Call." Vriska dropped in a chip. There were awkward stares. "What?"

"Well?" Tom gestured at her. "Your story?"

"Nope."

"Nope?" Jack repeated.

"Nope. I'm not gonna drop my whole life story on ya. We'll be here all night." Jake wordlessly called into the pot, which had accumulated to $8,000 with an equal share from each player. The jack of diamonds was deployed to the table as the fourth river card.

"Well can you give us the TL;DR?" Tom asked, pronouncing each letter of the acronym. Vriska rolled her eyes.

"I played a reality warping game along with a bunch of other kids, which wiped out the original version of my reality and made a new one. I was alive, then dead, then immortal, then dead again, than a ghost, then dead again, but this time the marquise of a pirate ghost army. Then some really complicated things happened and now I and a bunch of other people are alive again, and I may or may not be immortal again also but I ain't telling no one." There wad dead silence.

"Eh... too long, didn't listen." Tom shrugged.

"Fuck you robot." Vriska replied. "Dog, your turn."

"Oh... uh." Jake thought for a moment as Tom bet another 1k. "I'm Jake the Dog and me and my bro Finn go on adventures. Ain't that right Finn?" Jake looked back at the bar, where Finn was sipping on a milkshake and talking with one of the bartender girls. "Yo Finn!" This time he heard him.

"Yeah?" Finn shouted to him.

"You'd call what we do adventures, right?"

"Math yeah!"

"What he said." Jake turned back to them.

"Adventures is sort of vague." Jack glanced at Tom. "Fold." He set his hole cards aside.

"Ouch, not brave enough for it, eh?" Vriska teased.

"I've probably played a lot more Poker in my life then any of you." Jack told her. "You mentioned a planet called Ooo. What's it like?" Jake shrugged.

"It's home."

"No but how is it different?"

"Different compared to what?"

"I dunno, to Earth?" Jack answered impatiently.

"What's an earth?"

"Earth." Glados dropped in briefly. "Sol-3, only inhabited planet in the Sol system. A variety of climates, biomes and lifeforms."

"Sounds like Ooo to me." Jake answered.

"Raise!" Vriska interrupted, adding three 1k chips to the pot against Tom's one.

"I'll call." Jake said with a smile, finally beginning to get the hang of the game, at least in his own mind.

"The so-called "Land of Ooo" is in fact simply an alternate version of Sol-3 then the one from which your originate captain. Simply, as they say, go with it." Glados rose back up and away from them.

"I call." Tom matched the bet. The pot struck 17,000. The last river card surfaced: the eight of spades.

"Check." Vriska said. Jake silently tapped the table, checking as well.

"Moment of truth kiddos." Tom tapped the table as well, and three of them flipped over their cards.

Jake JJAQ8

Vriska AAJJ8

Tom JJJA8

Jack FOLD

"Jake has a pair of Jacks." Glados announced. "Ms. Serket has two pair. Tom has three of a kind. Tom wins the hand."

"Damn." Vriska pounded the table. "Hey Robot!" Tom glanced at her as he raked in the chips.

"You talking to me or her?"

"Her!" She pointed up as Glados came down in front of her. "Did you do something to me when your brought me here?"

"What do you mean?"

"My powers aren't working! I can't read anyone at this table!"

"Oh..." Glados understood. "Your psychic aren't you? A mind reader perhaps?"

"Yeah, and?" Vriska asked indignantly.

"I'm just surprised." Glados shook her head. "That you would state your intent to cheat so openly. I'll have to keep a close eye on you." Glados pushed towards Vriska's face.

"Still don't know why it's not working." Vriska muttered.

"Maybe it has to do with the fact that your playing against a dog, a robot, and a fellow alien who's immune to psychic influence." Jack smirked.

"Hmph." Vriska pouted. "Fine. I'll play fair."

"Regardless, thank you for bring up a perfectly valid point." Glados rose up. "I'll begin work immediately on a psychic negation field for when more psychics join the tournaments. Now then..." She dealt the next hand.

Vriska $20,000 - Jake $19,500 - Tom $41,000 - Jack $23,000

Blind $500 - Blind $1,000

"So... psychic eh?" Jack asked. "You got absolutely nothing on me?" Jack threw a 1k chip in for the call.

"Nope, which is weird, because usually if nothing else I can make humans fall asleep or wake up." Vriska called in with her 1k.

"Well I'm not human, even though I look it. I come from the Boeshane Penninsula on one of the human colony worlds."

The river cards this time: a two of clubs, eight of spades, and five of diamonds.

"John never mentioned any colony worlds." Vriska retorted and then called.

"Maybe not in his world. Or his time." Jack smiled. "John. That's a very human name, John. You'd never meet a Slitheen or a Judoon named John."

"Heh heh. I like that name. John" Jake snickered. "I don't know why though. I don't think I even know any johns..." He frowned at his cards. "Fold."

"Can we uh, disregard further discussion of guys named John and keep playing here?" Tom prompted them. "I kinda gotta be back in orbit by midnight. Got some new shows starting." He checked.

The tournament ran for some time, until a winner emerged. For the first night back for the club, the player would come to consider it a success. Everything had gone off without a hitch. Which was more than could be said for future Poker Nights at the Inventory...


	4. The World Doors

**AN - New universes introduced in this chapter:**

**- Welcome to Night Vale**

**- Yugioh Abridged**

**- Marvel (Cinematic Universe)**

**- TGWTG Universe**

**Thank you for reading.**

* * *

"You have to know when to hold them. Know when to fold them. Know when to walk away. Know when to run. Run. RUN! Run for your life! Run back, to the safety... of NIGHT VALE!" Proclaimed a distinct and precise voice over the radio before a peaceful melody began to play. "Hello listeners." The voice remarked calmly, with apparent disregard for it's panicked introduction. "And now, the news. Our top story, the mayoral campaign heats up between Hiram McDaniel's and the faceless old woman who lives in your home. And by heat up, I mean Hiram started breathing fire, as he is, I remind you, a five-headed dragon. More on that in a bit, but first I have something interesting to share with you all."

"Have you ever found a door that you don't remember being there the day before? Of course you have. But I'm not talking about the screaming, glowing doors that appear in our homes, that are part of everyday life: Just a normal door that you don't remember seeing. Well, earlier today I was getting ready for the show, when intern Jerad came and asked me about the new door in the break room. Well, I went and took a look and boy was I surprised. Did you know, that we have a beautiful and lovely night club tucked away here in the Night Vale Community Radio building?"

* * *

"BAKURA!" A shrill voice cried out. A teen with massive white hair and pale complexion frowned as the tan, blonde young man in front of him grabbed his book away.

"What is it Marik?" He asked with slight annoyance.

"There's a door!" Marik proclaimed an pointed towards the television set. It sat in a dark void, along with two chairs in front of it, and the couch on which Bakura lied. The Shadow Realm. Or at least, the little pocket of it they were safely holed up in, until they could escape. It was less the shadow realm to him though. More like purgatory. Just... days and days of nothing but watching Marik play video games and reading the same couple of books over and over. Bakura glanced at the screen, where Marik's effeminate-vampire-avatar stood in front of a door.

"The doors aren't opening again?" Bakura muttered. "I thought you said you had skills now."

"No, not the game!" Mairk grabbed Bakura's head and turned it to look at a different angle. About twelve feet behind the TV, a wooden door frame with a closed door had appeared from thin air in the void.

"Well..." Bakura was dumbstruck. "That's certainly a door."

"I shall call it Steve." Marik declared, pulling a golden wand like object with a golden sphere at the tip from the back of his pants. "Obey me Steve the Door! Reveal to us your secrets!" He pointed at it with the rod. Nothing happened.

"Marik..." Bakura rolled his eyes.

"Silence! I must concentrate!" Bakura got up from the couch and walked over to the door, and opened it casually after walking around it once. Nothing had been behind it before... but the door opened to reveal the interior of a bar. "HA! I did that. WITH MY SKILLS!"

* * *

"So Tony... you planning to get back in the game soon?" Bruce Banner questioned his friend as he wandered through Tony's workshop, where Tony sat at a work bench fiddling with a gauntlet standing up on the table. It was a plain silver, but still somewhat in the style of his Iron Man armor.

"Nah. But I can still use the tech for other things." Stark told him. "The neural receptors I used to manipulate the Mark 45, I'm tweaking them for use in tactile prosphetics."

"Limb replacements. Even after removal, the brain still sends out nerve signals to move them."

"Yep. You think it and the machine does it. That's the idea anyway." Tony made a fist with his left hand and the mechanical hand in front of him mimicked him with almost no lag. "Problem is the brain chemistry. My chips are custom tailored for me. Need to develop chips that'll be widely compatible with a general population." He turned to face Bruce. "But that needs clinical trials, and the FDA won't let me start trials because of the "technological slippery slope". Bullshit, am I right?"

"Well..."

"Yeah, I know. I've got a reputation as Iron Man. These limbs are gonna come across as weapons. Maybe if I set up a shell corp and develop out of there..."

"Well, glad you found a safe hobby." Banner replied before getting ready to head out of the room.

"And what's your hobby these days?"

"Yoga." Bruce turned just before he went out the door. Tony smirked.

"You got lame bro. We need to do some science together again." He told him. "You interested in coming aboard if I fake a shell corp for these?"

"I dunno. Secrets aren't good for my stress."

"That's weaksauce man."

"Gnight." He wandered out.

"Night." Tony replied with a roll of his eyes. "Night." He paused. "Jarvis, isn't it like two in the afternoon?"

"2 AM sir." A polite mechanical voice came from speakers in the ceiling. "You have lost track of time yet again."

"Welp..." Tony shut off the lights over his desk. "Pepper won't be happy." He headed out of his workshop, and into the rest of Stark Tower.

Tony had designed the building himself. The basement and sub basements were space for his own projects, while on-the-book Stark Industries work was done in the top half of the floors. The other half of the floors were rental space, mostly taken up by tech-firms seeking to associate themselves with the cutting edge giant. The ground floor and the one above it were essentially a mall, a bustling public hub full of stores and trendy restaraunts. Tony didn't bother to keep track of it; like much of the minutia of Stark Industries. Pepper decided the mini-mall ground floor was a good idea, so he was fine with it. At this time of night, the mall had been closed for hours. So Tony was surprised to see the doors open and people inside of a store he'd not paid much attention to. A large sign over the door read "The Inventory". The two large glass windows on either side of the door were decorated with dice and playing cards.

"Jarvis?" Tony spoke into his watch. "Why's this still open?"

"What is open sir?"

"The Inventory." Tony stopped in front of it. "Some kind of bar or club on F1."

"Acsessing Stark Tower Mall database..." Jarvis said quickly. "No business with that name is registered in the ledgers."

"But I'm standing right in front of it."

"Yes sir, that's why I'm perplexed." Jarvis replied. "This database is up to date as of the start of this morning's business day. The storefront before you is listed as unrented." Tony raised an eyebrow. "Sir, are you planning on going in there?"

"Well, it's already late. Let's get a drink."

* * *

"Red alert." A female voice intoned with mechanical precision, over an intercom attached to the wall of a seemingly ordinary apartment. "Intrusion detected. This unit has detected the opening of a dimensional doorway within the protected zone. Origin unknown." Pulling on a long brown coat, the apartments owner, a young man wearing a white long sleeve shirt with a brown vest over it, reached for an antique looking flintlock pistol on a bookcase.

"Any familiar energy signatures?" The man asked as he slid the pistol into a pocket inside the jacket, before reaching for another device on the shelf next to it.

"Information: No familiar energy signatures. Dimensional passage located at primary entrance." Sliding on a brown trillby hat, the man approached the apartment door, drawing a small silver wand from inside his vest. It let out a hum as the tip glowed blue. "Information: A radio broadcast has been detected."

"Let's hear it Nimue." There was a static hiss, and then, a voice.

"... in times like these Night Vale, it's important to remember that no matter what happens, you should always stop to have some fun in life. Because we have a limited amount of time, and there is no fun, in death." The man raised an eyebrow at the smooth radio announcer voice. "So, that's no reason to let a little rain of blood stop your plans for the day. Get out and explore! And it is in that spirit that I'm going to go and take a look at that nightclub in the break room. See what kind of drinks they have, and if they have a food menu. Maybe I can take Carlos there some time. But anyways, while I exercise the spirit of adventure, I leave you know, to the weather." The voice cut out, and was replaced by a whistling sound, quickly joined by guitar chords.

"This sounds familiar..." Intoned the robotic voice of a small blue robot that had joined the man in listening.

"Poyo..." The man was cut off, as lyrics joined the music.

_Welcome to Atop the Fourth Wall_

_Where Bad Comics Burnnnnn_

_Linkara's Gonna Teach You All_

_A Lesson You Won't Learnnnn_

"Your theme song?" Poyo questioned as Linkara stared at the glazed glass door with wooden frame that had replaced his own front door.

"Nimue, hold down the fort. I'm gonna check this out. Poyo, with me." He instructed. He headed for the door, with the blue robot hovering behind him.


End file.
